


Bodyguarding

by wanderingsmith



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Other, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-07
Updated: 2008-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-08 08:31:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingsmith/pseuds/wanderingsmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>READ the AN first! - Atlantis is in critical shape and Ronon must participate where he would rather not</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [comanche_rider](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=comanche_rider).



> Warning: 3some smut (It's Shep/Weir centric, but with Ronon)
> 
> Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this. As it is thought, so let it be said; you make the toys, I play with 'em.
> 
> AN: It is someone's birthday Dec 7. this was going to be a giftfic.. but then it completely ran away!! (13k words???) So let's call Chapter 2 the giftfic part and the rest is just my baggage. Anyway, I know its not the mounty, comanche.. hope you like anyway, luv :) Happy birthday, and I hope December is nicer to you than November was!! lol, I did listen to Paul Gross singing during writing.. poor lad would shudder at what it stood for at this moment... (VEG)
> 
> Many thanks to anuna_81 and kirsty841 for their encouragement and betaing!

"We have NO choice!!" Elizabeth's voice rang off the conference room walls.

The rest of SGA1 sat tensely as they watched the leaders of Atlantis glare at each other, standing toe to toe, bodies tensed in touchless combat. The dark circles under their eyes spoke of too long scrambling desperately to survive; again.

Neither the Daedalus had been seen nor the SGC heard from for two months. An unfortunately timed overload had destroyed their ZPM and freak hurricanes had pounded the Athosian settlement, resulting in the residents fleeing to Atlantis to survive after the destruction of their crops and hunting grounds.

More hurricanes continued to threaten to come at the city every week since, and the city's food supply was getting very scarce; their allies all seemed to be either having bad crops or getting decimated by the Wraith. No one was foolish enough to say that at least the Wraith were leaving Atlantis alone, but it was in the air, thicker even, than the hunger; and the worry about what could have happened to Earth. Eyes were dark, belts tight and cheeks sunken.

And now to finally find allies willing to trade...

"Captain Neil said outright that that planet is a criminal hotbed with cutthroats at every corner!! There is NO WAY IN FUCKING **HELL** that you are setting foot there! You *can't* ask me to put you in danger like that!"

Teyla winced at John's shout, hearing the terror under the fury, yet knowing that it was both the wrong thing to say to Elizabeth, and that it was a waste of breath. She wondered if she and Ronon would have to intervene to keep their friends from going too far; from saying words that could not be taken back. She was glad to see Elizabeth stop before responding, taking a breath and tightening her jaw.

"John-" Elizabeth's voice was still a little too loud and she closed her eyes, forcing another breath through constricted muscles. For just an instant, she caught John's scent under the unwashed sweat they all reeked of -how much longer would the water systems be offline? She had to ask Zelenka-. She almost collapsed in the sudden anguish she felt. She was so tired, with the terror that the Wraith could appear at any moment, with Atlantis' shield utterly impossible to raise, with the hunger that left a nagging headache and threatened the survival of the weaker members of the Athosian community. So tired of scrambling for resources that just weren't there, watching the worry and suffering that people tried to hide under brave faces.

She forced her eyes open as she 'felt' the man standing just a few inches away from her settle back on his heels; felt the aggression he'd exuded suddenly revert to the worry she was more used to.

She could see the entreaty in his eyes. It shouldn't squeeze her heart to see that desperate wish for reality to change; it should annoy her for being childish. But it took a great deal for John to really annoy her; and anything stemming from his need to protect her made her want to hug him long before she thought of a reprimand.

Except that *she* so wanted to be held right now.. she stiffened herself to resist the need to fold; gripping her self-control with her fingernails, "John, they have a power source *and* food," she took a tight breath, watching John's shoulders hunch as he glared at his feet, "They're willing to trade. All we have to do..." Now her voice died away, her strength abandoning her before she could get it out. John's eyes lifted, exhausted and tormented; no, she couldn't deny that that was very much a variety of torment.

"Is send our leader."

Elizabeth's eyes slid to Ronon, seeing sympathy but also the realistic, firm strength of a survivor.

"And you're going to have to sleep with any guard who accompanies you." She turned back to John as he spoke harshly, only to see him also staring at the obvious warrior in their midst. Yes, her ever-watchful second in command didn't need to say any more out loud; the logical guards to accompany her on such a dangerous mission would be John, because his protectiveness wouldn't allow anything else, and Ronon for muscle backup.

The shameful, hungry shiver that had zapped through her when the captain had explained the cultural rules her team had had to follow to get through the political maze of Roklyx had been directly related to the dark-rimmed hazel eyes that had flown to hers across the meeting table at the time.

Now, standing even closer to John, and with yet another handsome man in a conversation about sex... Damn, Elizabeth bit back a snarl, she had no time for this nonsense, no matter how long it had been since she'd had anything more than fantasies to keep her warm or distract her from the snack-sized supper. And brunch.

Her people -*their* people!- were hungry and in danger damn it; concentrate Elizabeth!

####

John had a white-knuckled grip on his P-90, eyes trying to look everywhere at once in the all-too-busy market, terminally aware of the need to protect Elizabeth, walking a few inches behind him with her own P90 in hand and Ronon stalking along right at her back.

The moment they'd come in sight of the town, the ghostly war within him had gone on an utterly silent holiday. There was no attention to be spared on worrying if they would fail at these negotiating and die, or be escorted to *one* bedchamber as 'honoured' guests -complete with cameras and actually *spelled out* rules that guards 'performed' or were unworthy and therefore killed-. None of that would matter if they were killed in this damned murderer's haven before they even reached the palace.

Ronon tried not to remember the last time he'd been on this planet. Without an 'owner', he'd gotten to see the inside of their jails and had no wish for a second viewing. Nor to re-encounter the 'police' of this place. Which meant sticking close to Dr. Weir. *How* close he was going to have to get was something else again. She was a lovely woman whom he happened to admire, but the Satedan way was 'one man for one woman'; and not only did she already 'have' a man -however unofficially-, but he was one that Ronon called friend. One did not interfere with the courtship of friends.

Of course, all things had exceptions. Sheppard certainly couldn't protect her alone, and he needed the best as backup since one backup was all he'd be allowed at their destination. And knowing that everyone back on Atlantis felt the same hunger eating away at their ribs as he did.. Necessity and keeping your friends alive overruled any personal preferences.

####

After eight gruelling hours of *forceful* negotiations, the Atlantean delegation accompanied their first shipment of food to the gate. Elizabeth watched the skid flow out into the rippling blue yonder, still hyped up on the adrenaline that had given her the strength to stand up to the bullying tactics of their new 'allies'. She supposed she had to thank them for providing regular meals at least, which certainly helped her starved body support her; but still, it'd been a while since she'd put in this kind of day's work.

As the horizon dissipated, she was aware of John and Ronon standing literally at her elbows, tense and grumpy. She'd spent the day fighting; *they*'d spent the day *ready* to fight, straining to catch any coming threat while pretending not to, for fear of offering insult.

And now they had to return to the palace and 'perform'. She shied away from that part of it, deciding she needed to forget about the watchers; there was no way she would be able to.. No. Better to keep her focus on the here and now.

These people didn't seem to have a use for love or any other tender emotion. Sex was a physical fitness testament, not anything to do with two people connecting.. or three. But that didn't change how she and *her* people saw the act, damn it.

##

Walking into the room they had been issued, Elizabeth saw a tub through the door to the bathroom and couldn't help a sudden smile, glad to let herself be distracted and delay the inevitable; not to mention the very practical consideration that this would be much more pleasant if the three of them *didn't* stink. "I'm claiming dibs on that tub, gentlemen," she swept away with exaggerated grandness from her 'guards', standing uncomfortably in front of the recently closed door. Well yes, the idea of a bath after being grimy for so long *did* make her a little giddy, why did you ask...

##

Soaking in the hot water, Elizabeth forced the calm of meditation to settle in and neutralize some of the excess adrenaline running roughshod through her veins. Her people had food tonight, and her instincts said that the rest of the talks were going to be successful; tough, but successful. Without underestimating the amount of underhanded backstabbing that could happen, still, she really had learned to trust her instincts.

So for now, she trusted that her city and her people were saved. It was an unfortunate fact that she'd needed guards to get here safely and that the local definition of 'guard' was enforced on foreigners. Her eyes opened; the tension of the negotiations had allowed her to bury the reality of what the next phase of the 'talks' really entailed, but now the mental images became ascendant.

This was one of those rare occasions when Elizabeth's little inside voice wanted to cover its eyes and hide in a corner and ignore reality. And she wanted to listen to it! However, that wasn't who Elizabeth Weir was. She wouldn't have made it here if she'd hidden; wouldn't have kept her people alive through the years by denying problems. Alright. They needed these supplies, and the men on the other side of that door had had to kill three attackers on the way through town. And the condition for these negotiations to continue.. was to have sex. It was a severely limited godsend that the cameras were infra-red; all things considered, in a place like this, she wouldn't have been surprised if they required actual video footage to sell!

No. She'd already decided to forget the damned cameras were there, remember? Elizabeth took a deep breath, forcibly clearing her mind. Alright. Forget about the reasons and concentrate on the facts. She still couldn't believe that the Atlantis intranet had NOT gotten any threesome porn in it! She'd thought that doing a little last-minute research would simply be wise, only to discover that either her expedition was obsessively single-partnered or she needed to spruce-up her hacking skills.

Which left her with her imagination and that of John and Ronon. And left her with John and Ronon themselves. Her mind stilled, seeing them again as she'd turned away from the door earlier. As much as the Satedan dominated the room from sheer size, it was John's eyes that drew her, an automatic pull that had gotten tighter with every year they spent side by side. Her last reassurance after hard choices, her anchor when there were only problems and no solutions. And now... there had still been that reassurance, but tempered by hesitation.. and awareness. The recognition of that underlying attraction they'd danced around for the last three years.

Except that there was another man in the room; their friend or not, they would never have chosen to have him present for this. She had to get her mind onto a path that could accommodate what was about to happen. It wasn't giving in to the nagging need to touch John, to hold him and be held, to kiss him and *remember* it properly -damned body black boxes-. What this was, was one of those parts of a leader's job that they didn't teach you in school; and she had no idea how they were all going to work through it. Making love to John in front of cameras would be bad enough... making love to Ronon. At all, let along in front -with??- John... Dear God.

Food. Food and a power source. And two men that she *trusted*.

She could do this. Any number of people indulged in recreational sex, and she had two gorgeous men that she liked, in one way or another. Standing up in the tub, Elizabeth frowned for a second; how had Cadman put it? Oh yes, she grinned to herself, *eyecandy*. Yes, that was what she should concentrate on. Never mind wishing that she could simply put a collar on them to lay claim to them. Think of the eye candy Elizabeth. Because this wasn't about going through the motions; she, *they*, actually had to *participate*. Completely.

Good God, she refused to think when she'd last had an orgasm from a man; if she let herself feel it, she had to admit that her body had a complaint on permanent file. She could almost hear it whispering eagerly. Come on Elizabeth, it's just consensual, friendly sex. Please? Sex. Just pleasant sex. Right; everyone releases some tension and feels good. And the expedition and the Athosians all got to eat their fill for supper tonight, Elizabeth, and the shield might be up by tomorrow night.

Sex.

Right.

Get to work Elizabeth. There are women who would *kill* to have this job.

Now *that* thought made her smile; if only John wasn't... what he was to her. Maybe... But then again, no. No matter how she trusted Ronon, she wasn't sure what she would feel if John wasn't there, but 'safe' wasn't a good word for it. Where here.. yes, she did feel safe, not 'happy', but physically safe, and even emotionally, no more at risk that any other day.

She took her time wiping herself clean and even smoothing on a very little bit of lotion, trying to capture some feeling of anticipation, or sensuality. Dressing in the more casual loose shirt and slacks she pulled from her pack while making herself go over both men's 'attributes' indifferently. Repeatedly beating off the guilt at treating them like slabs of meat; and the feeling of being unfaithful when her body responded, ever so slightly, to the imagery.

Three equals.

Casual sex.

She took a last breath before opening the door, belatedly wondering what they'd done while she'd been in here.

John looked up when he heard the bathroom door finally open. Sitting on the edge of the bed undoing his boots, he met Elizabeth's eyes for a second before she tracked Ronon to where he lounged in the only chair in the room.

The flowing hemp shirt she'd put on made her look so different from the woman he worked with that he froze, simply watching as she stepped further into the room, dropping her pack next to the wall and hesitantly walking to him as Ronon stepped past her silently and closed the door behind himself. She looked almost carefree, casual and relaxed, though he could see the lie of that in the lines of tension around her eyes.

"Problem with your boots, colonel?" she grinned as she looked down at his still frozen fingers and he jerked back to himself.

Embarrassed heat crawled up his neck and he hurriedly looked down to finish the job, mumbling, "Oh, you know, tangled laces and all that." Considering everything else that was currently a tangled mess, the laces were just a nice distraction though.

After they'd taken off their vests and weapons in stilted silence, Ronon had abruptly asked him if he and Elizabeth had *ever* made love. As though they should have, as though it was inevitable. As though it was a topic of conversation by their people.

John had managed, up till then, to half-ignore what was about to happen, had focused on the danger and left the rest of this so vague in his thoughts that it didn't trigger any of the emotional mines he'd felt swelling when they'd first heard the news. But the words 'make love' had snuck the images into his mind. Had pulled out fantasies of Elizabeth that he was so used to denying and burying that for a minute he'd felt like the guy handling the nitro in some western; stiff and scared and jittery, with no idea how to stand or move.

And then seeing Ronon had forced him to further adjust the image into one that made him flinch in denial again, but then he'd grabbed himself by the scruff with a mental snarl. He couldn't afford to be childish right now, they needed to do this; *Elizabeth* needed him and he was damned if he'd fail her. So he'd taken a long breath and, rather than fumble an answer to the Satedan's impossible question, he'd shrugged and thrown down his own gauntlet, "You ever been in a threesome?"

John grinned now, the smirk hidden by his bent head, remembering the other man's half befuddled, half grimacing expression, "You mean to tell me this is a normal thing on Earth??"

"Hell, no," John had replied casually, "Does happen though. Don't ask me how often but-" He'd shrugged again.

"So... You know how..."

It wasn't often anyone got to see the self-confident warrior unnerved, and if John wasn't so damned unnerved himself, he'd be smirking happily at the turnaround. As it was, "No; sorry. I'm sure some of the boys I flew with when I was younger must have babbled about it over beers, but even if I'd paid enough attention, I don't think we'd want to give too much credence to them."

He'd sat on the bed, staring at the window looking out far above the the dark city, "I managed to get a couple hits off the network though," -by forcing himself to treat it like an academic curiosity- he frowned now in annoyance, "*Stories* of all things."

"Okay. So you *do* know what to do."

He'd tried to repeat what he remembered and they'd stiffly thrown around a couple hesitantly spoken ideas before falling silent. It was Ronon that had thrown the last thought out; that they needed to treat this as 'fun'. Casual.

Yeah.

Casual.

Sex.

With Elizabeth. Yeah, right.

With Ronon. Err, what??

And that was the last they'd said to each other, both reverting to silent and mutually and wordlessly agreeing to go with the flow, since planning wasn't working for either of them.

Now Elizabeth sat down a few inches besides him as he straightened, throwing his boots out of the way and turning, bending his knee up on the bed to face her. She'd brought both bare feet on the comforter and wrapped her arms round her raised knees, reinforcing the relaxed image. This was far from the closest they'd been to each other, but the fact that they were on a bed and that she wasn't wearing shoes momentarily distracted him, "I don't think I've ever seen you barefoot."

Elizabeth's grin from watching him struggle with his footwear faded at his quiet words. She followed his eyes down to the toes sticking out from her pant leg and wriggled them experimentally, looking back up to catch a soft grin on his face. "John?" When he looked up, still smiling, she felt yet more of that tension inside her settle, the gentleness and affection in his eyes were a much-needed reassurance right now. "Have either of you-" she waved a hand at the bed, themselves and the bathroom door, hoping he'd get the picture.

His grin faded too, replaced with an equally reassuring serious expression. "Participated in a threesome? No," he shook his head ruefully, "Of all things I thought I'd regret not going after when I was young and wild..."

Elizabeth choked on a laugh, "*When* you were young and wild? John Sheppard-" It was her turn to shake her head, trying to wrap her mind into associating the frequently un-leashable handsome man in front of her with someone who saw youth and wildness only in his *past*.

John grinned widely, feeling a swell of warmth at having made her relax and laugh. "We did talk a bit. About all we agreed was that the best course was to keep this.. relaxed. Fun. Casual." He shrugged, smile fading as every second brought him closer to the reality of trying to put those words into some kind of action they could all live with. When she nodded sober agreement before looking away and just sitting silently, he caught himself automatically looking away from the opening of her shirt. No, for once he actually *should* stare; at least a bit. Not for the encouragement; his body shivered with awareness any time he was *close* to Elizabeth, he wasn't remotely worried about being 'able'. But he did need to get used to looking, to letting himself look. And used to being caught.

He blushed as she turned her head, smirking at catching him staring at her breasts and automatically going to 'tease John' mode, "See something you like?"

If the teasing was a bit forced, he still appreciated the attempt. He grinned sheepishly, "Yeah, actually," He gave her a very slow, thorough once over, not really teasing and ended with a grin as he saw the bright red staining her cheeks, "Very much."

She shook her head at him before sobering, "John?" He quirked a brow at the uncertain edge to her voice, "Are we going to be okay?"

His breath wanted to stutter and he let it, knowing she needed to know she wasn't the only one unsure far more than he needed his pride in front of her. He cleared his throat, feeling the familiar pull of need to touch her, "Yeah, we will," he hesitated, seeing her continued worry, "I promise, Elizabeth. I'm not letting this hurt *us*." What 'us' *was*... was a question for when Atlantis was back in fighting shape and they were *alone*, but he meant every word. He knew he was going to be jealous, had known from the first instant, but no one deserved that feeling here, Elizabeth wasn't che- wasn't falling for another man. She was trying to keep their people alive by the only means she had.

She seemed to believe him, nodding with a small smile before looking away, he assumed to regain her relaxed humour.

There was something else they needed to get used to, though. Something he, for one, viscerally needed to be all their own.

"Elizabeth?" When she turned that falsely calm look back to him, John carefully brought a hand to her cheek, aware that she stiffened and was choking the instinct to pull back. He needed to do this, needed for the first time he kissed her to be just the two of them. To establish that baseline in both their minds. He had dreamed this moment for far too long, had accepted that it was safer for their relationship and for their jobs for it not to happen yet, but now... This was one first that they could *still* have.

They watched each other as they got closer, silently acknowledging what they meant to each other, and Elizabeth wondered how they'd survived so long with this power boxed up inside themselves. When their lips touched, it was with gentle tenderness, not trying to speak of sex, but of love. Of caring. Their eyes still open, her fingers curled into his shirt, shivering and searching for an anchor; feeling his wide, warm hands stroking her back lightly, each pass pulling her closer, laying claim to her, wrapping her senses in his touch and protection. All the time in the world to love each other; and then, naturally enough, lips parted and deeper exploration became necessary. The need arising to possess and give; to belong to each other *right now*.

Elizabeth's hands were buried in John's warm, lively hair; his hands under her shirt and pants, caressing and rippling her tight against him. Her tongue deep in his mouth, body simmering with heat and need when she felt different hands hesitatingly settle on her hips.

She pulled back in confusion, breathing hard, listening to John whine at the back of his throat at the interruption. But she also felt a bearded kiss on her nape; and then she remembered and looked behind her, meeting Ronon's teasing expression apologetically. As odd as it was, seeing the Satedan's face so close -so much stranger than staring into John's eyes as they kissed- and seeing the understanding in his eyes, reassured her. His teasing grin when he looked past her was something she again knew they would all need to survive this surreal night. Humour to make light of physical need, to soothe the primitive beasts that could all too easily rise.


	2. Chapter 2

Ronon had taken as long as he could excuse under the warm shower, knowing his friends needed to talk, and do other things, before they could all get to this night's work. He distracted himself with thinking about the look Teyla had given him before he left Atlantis. Mostly shuttered.. but with a hint of some hidden fierceness. He knew she wasn't any happier about this than the couple in the other room; than *he* was, damn it!. But that look hinted that maybe when this was done, they'd finally enter into some negotiations of their own. As much as the thought put the right about of zip in his blood for the evening, still, the 'details' left him twitchy at the mental association of two such.. disparate acts. Making love to the woman he wanted to claim should never have been in the same thought as.. having not-quite-forced sex with a friend.

He just hoped that Sheppard really could overlook this. The man was in a complicated relationship with even more complex feelings involved; almost certainly including a heavy dose of buried possessiveness. Regardless of what he *said*, or thought he *meant*, Ronon might still find himself out of a team as a result, if not out of the city. Not that that was going to change his course of action; his comrades needed him, Teyla's people needed him. Whatever the cost, he would do what was necessary.

Though as he stood in the door and watched his friends kiss, he not only had to fight his distaste at interrupting such a private moment, but he also twitched again, this time wondering how he'd deal with having another man in the room while he had sex with a woman. A *naked* man. Definitely not *this* Satedan's way. But hardly the worst way it could happen, he thought with a snarl at the viciousness that existed in some people. He resolutely stamped out that unpleasant thought as he stepped forward silently; making himself find the humour at just how lost the couple on the bed were in each other. Why the devils had they waited so long, anyway? But then, *he*'d yet to get a certain stubborn Athosian to bend, had he?

##

"Much as I'd normally encourage this as being about damned time," Ronon's grin faded, "If I leave you to it, we could get in trouble; even if I watched..."

Without a word, John's hands were gone from Elizabeth's body and he dropped a kiss on her nape before getting up. She turned back to watch him go and he gave her a nod of... approval, she thought, or permission. Though nothing could hide the hesitant, regretful expression twisting his lips before he turned to grab his pack and close the bathroom behind him. No. Not any of their first choices.

She turned back to face Ronon, resisting, barely, the need to take a breath for courage. She liked him, admired his courage and loyalty, and she neither wanted to insult him, nor to make this harder for him. But she'd never been one to sleep with a man without some feelings involved; let along sleep with TWO men at once!

They silently watched each other for a minute; adjusting, she thought, putting the other in one's category of 'sleeping partner' instead of friend and colleague. Or leader. To open their eyes to the sexual beings they each were, could be, had to be, to each other; for tonight.

"Sheppard says this is okay with him. What about you?"

She must have succeeded at reclassifying him because his deep voice pulled a small shiver through her, distracting her for a second too long. The serious look in his eyes made Elizabeth wonder if he thought she was going to chase him out of Atlantis for this and she smiled reassuringly, bringing a hesitant hand to touch his beard, "This is okay, Ronon. Necessary. I'm-" she frowned, "Did we even ask if it was okay with *you*?"

She saw the set of his shoulders relax, becoming *aware*, physically, that he was only wearing loose pants. Bare, muscled shoulders and a mile of smooth chest weren't even partially hidden by his usual vest. Just eyecandy, and forget about tomorrow.

"Not exactly. But I would never refuse to help our people. Sheppard knows that."

Elizabeth winced at their slip, no matter how he excused them.

He just grinned, eyes lightening, "So you and Sheppard had a chance to 'talk'?"

Though they'd hardly said anything, she knew they'd communicated enough; and never mind what Ronon was implying either! "Yes, we're alright."

He nodded seriously, "Good."

Another minute of silent appraisal and she *did* take that breath, smiling self-deprecatingly as she leaned in and kissed him, hesitant and awkward at first, too aware of the beard to forget who he was. Or wasn't. When he slid a hand behind her head and gently pulled her closer, she did her part by opening her mouth and letting him in, trying to let herself relax and surrender. Casual. Fun. Sex.

She *did* like him. And he *was* a good looking man that both she and John trusted. The fact that she wasn't attracted to him... couldn't be allowed to interfere with tonight. So she concentrated on soft lips, the sensual feel of wild hair, of hands starting to caress her. Concentrated on warm skin that was rougher than hers by far, on heavy muscles that flexed with power under her touch.

##

John froze when he stepped out of the bathroom in nothing but running pants. There was no denying the sick kick of jealousy that hit him at seeing another man kissing and touching Elizabeth, the snarl that almost escaped as his hands fisted and his shoulders bunched to attack. But, luckily *before* he did anything stupid, he caught himself; took a firm grip on the green-eyed monster and locked it away, knowing it was neither deserved, nor would it appreciate what *else* was to come. This wasn't a choice and he wasn't going to be the one to be stupid and make this harder on any of them. Just for tonight, this had to be more about sex than love. Hell, he also had to try to ignore his automatic discomfort with another man in the room. That he currently wanted to *kill* that man.. was something he needed to distract himself from, and pronto.

Stepping closer to the somewhat mechanically -he reassured himself- kissing pair, he could see the tension in Elizabeth's shoulders; yeah, much healthier focus. Elizabeth. Sitting down behind her, he pressed his lips lingeringly on her nape, knowing the unhesitating move had more to do with staking claim than physical familiarity. He kissed slowly along her neck as his hands kneaded the tight muscles along her backbone. Looking at this as being about bringing Elizabeth pleasure suddenly made his chest relax; anything to bring her joy, right? He and Ronon were on the same team and needed to *cooperate*, not compete.

He felt her body melt under his hands and smiled triumphantly, lips hidden in the still-damp wave of auburn behind her ear. As though sensing his self-satisfaction, Elizabeth turned her head, lips separating from Ronon's without an argument as John's hands slid down, looking for the way under her shirt he'd found before. Her lips taking his was a distraction though; the foreign taste there was even more so until he re-stuffed the jealousy away with a stumbling grip, glad they'd kissed first so he had the comparison. He was faintly aware of her leaning back against his bare chest, her warmth very pleasant indeed. He also became aware of Ronon undoing her shirt buttons as John's hands sat unmoving at her hips, but he refused to be distracted from the arousal she was pulling from him.

Kissing.. kissing Elizabeth was important; when the shirt disappeared, sliding his hand into her slacks in front of her hips and pulling her even more tightly against him was important. When she reached her hands backward into his hair, bowing her chest out in an irresistible invitation; pulling back to look his fill at her now-bare breasts was inevitable, as was sliding his fingers back up to cup the soft white flesh, his head bending just enough for his lips to reach skin, any skin.

When his fingers encountered others on the same path, his head shot up, losing contact with the lobe of her ear, pulling his tongue back from its teasing path. Meeting Ronon's dark grin didn't have time to free the monster before he heard what sounded suspiciously like a breathless giggle from Elizabeth. He wanted her to get back to the little throaty moans she'd been making, though, and he shared a look with his erstwhile teammate -a wriggled brow enough to communicate his 'order'- and they both shifted, tackling to the bed the woman who was their enviable task for the evening.

On a different day, John had dreamt of bringing her to slow torturous pleasure, of shared laughter and tenderness; and openly expressed love. But that wasn't for tonight. Tonight they needed to be friends; *all* of them. Tonight the laughter would be more raucous, less personal. And though there were threads of affection between the three of them.. this night wasn't of cherishing, it was of sensual enjoyment and mutual respect. There had been a time he could do that, he just had to remember enough to at least walk the tightrope that caged possessiveness.

So, along with jealousy, John stuffed the often-breathless love he felt for this beautiful, strong, caring woman deep inside, hoping against hope that there would be another night; SOON! For now, he followed their tackle move by, without further ado, lowering his lips to the slope of Elizabeth's right breast, feeling Ronon's long hair brush his cheek where he mirrored the move on her left.

No. Better not to think too hard on anything tonight. Better to pretend it was *Elizabeth's* soft hair; more useful too.

Soft skin smoothing past his lips, he slipped one hand to her neck to stroke the corner of her mouth with his thumb, the other came up to cup the underside of her breast as Elizabeth moaned again, his senses delighting in the sound, even if his heart took it far too personally as her fingers tangled on the back of his head. In this at least, he could indulge himself, was honourbound even; to bring her pleasure. He tasted every inch of slowly swelling flesh, stroking and shaping it for his mouth to feast. Elizabeth's soft whimpers and the upward thrust of her chest were a tug at his own arousal and he turned his head to slide his lips onto the hard tip he'd avoided. Gently at first, careful of how sensitive she might be, he still suckled it, still brought his tongue to play; slow and careful. Until she tugged his head closer with a growl of frustration.

Sounds weren't his alone to take as command, but her hand pressing on his skull *was* just for him and he obeyed diligently; opened his mouth to take more of her, suckling insistently and rewarded with nails digging in to hold him hard against her rising torso. Listening to her cry out, he reached to pull her slacks down, slow going as he took every excuse to stroke the smooth, hot skin along the way, vaguely thinking of covering it with kisses and nibbles, if only he could tear himself away from treating her breast just as hard as she demanded. Vaguely aware that Ronon's hands were undoing her zipper and getting rid of the pants while John's meandered sensually over her ribs and belly.

It was wanton to lay there and have two men bent on her pleasure, but however much being wanton wasn't *her*, to actually think on what was happening, to return the attention, was a conflict. With John because it would leave her questioning their relationship and forever wanting more. With Ronon because she would be poaching; and cheating. And faking. Mostly.. though arousal was definitely making those reasons a lot hazier, a lot more malleable.

The awareness that her 'lovers' would be feeling the same thing was what convinced Elizabeth that she *had* to participate.

It was easier to touch John, more a natural desire let free than a movement forced, and so when she felt her slacks being pulled off her legs, she slowly wrapped one around his waist, allowing herself to *feel* the man she'd fantasized about for three years; skin, muscle, strength. And the power to make her shake with need and sensual pleasure, even with such a small contact. She knew he'd felt the change in her when he briefly lifted his head, the shift of his hair under her splayed hand pulling her gaze to meet his. Okay, so it wasn't just the one touch making her react; the tight cords between *both* her nipples and her clitoris were tight, tingling and making the blood rush over her skin in need and delight.

The understanding in his eyes turned to challenge as he held hers and pulled her wetly shining nipple back into his mouth, the responding throb deep in her body spiking when he met her jerkily raising hips by pushing his still fabric-covered, aroused penis into her thigh. She was only half aware of her other hand pulling a much more slowly caressing set of lips harder to her other breast. She took John's challenge and used her toes to lower his pants, not missing the chance to stroke his firm ass. His eyes closed and she felt a moan vibrate on her so-sensitive nipple; she wanted to grin at getting to him, except that she was outnumbered and outgunned and was choking a cry as Ronon observantly joined the party with a nibble of his own.

She didn't think she'd ever felt such a surge of wetness and need hit her and she quite suddenly wanted nothing so much as to flip John on his back and take him. Take him in her mouth and listen to him call out with pleasure, and then fill the emptiness at her core with him. Never mind that she'd never liked giving fellatio; with every inch of skin she stroked she wanted him, wanted to spend a day in bed, sweaty and undignified and *loving* each other...

She suddenly hit the end of her reach, with John's pants still at his knees. When he didn't finish the job for her, instead slowly rubbing his now-bare cock teasingly on her thigh as he suckled contentedly, Ronon was the one to chuckle at her growl and reach down himself to slide the slacks off the other man's legs, getting a baleful eye from him for the intimate touch. John retaliated by reaching over and jerking *his* pants down. Ronon grinned, letting the wet breast slip out of his mouth momentarily to rasp, "Hey! Watch the equipment, Sheppard!"

Above them, Elizabeth laughed, the interaction bridging her connection to the other man. Not waiting to think it over, letting sensual haze guide her, she reached down with a toe of her left foot and gently stroked said tool, "Seems alright..." How long had it been since she'd felt up a man's penis? Feeling two of them on her body though, was unsettling until she shut 'thinking' down, closing her eyes and resolutely sticking to *feeling* and *dreaming*.

John's concentration returned to Elizabeth when his still-travelling fingers skated over damp hairs and he felt heat radiate onto his wrist. Softly sliding his fingers over the hot mound, he moaned with primitive need as he felt the moisture that had seeped out between the swollen, aroused lips hidden within. The deep growl he heard besides him preceded those lips parting as Ronon pressed a thick finger into the seam as Elizabeth held her breath and stiffened.

John stroked a finger into the space created, hearing Elizabeth gasp a cry just as he brushed a tight bump of flesh. He pulled himself up and kissed her, abandoning the well of heat, his hands splaying on her belly instead to feel her breathe and shiver as Ronon moved down. Next time..

But the hunger in her kiss was nothing to regret -and God did he ever love kissing her. Could he convince her to spend a week just *kissing* him?-. And her two hands desperately stroking every inch of his skin made him shiver and shudder before she suddenly stiffened, nails landing on his shoulders forcefully.

John grinned through the kiss as she bucked, hard, almost throwing both him and Ronon off. He swallowed her cry of pleasure, his fingers coming up to give her nipples alternating tweaks and squeezes in time with her body's jerking; ignoring her nails desperately dug into his back, listening instead to her sounds of pleasure. He'd never had a liking for pain before, but feeling Elizabeth's passion in any form made his cock hard and painful as hell, grinding into the side of her hip as she cried out and shuddered again.

He really didn't give a damn right this second that it was another man bringing her such pleasure; he was just delighted with her response, with feeling and watching her let herself go. Was voyeur enough to be turned on by watching a woman, even *his* woman, arching in pleasure with a man's head between her legs, never mind the fact that she was single-mindedly fucking *his* mouth.

He groaned when one of her hands suddenly released his shoulder and stuttered down to wrap her palm around him. He almost bit her tongue when she squeezed jerkily before starting an unsteady pumping motion, stealing his ability to think. It wasn't until he heard her rasp a plea urgently into his ear that he realized he'd stopped kissing her, his mouth slipping sideways, lax, as he forgot everything but the fire and tension spiralling from her hand on him.

Ronon's attention on the woman under his touch fluctuated; sometimes he was lost in the sybaritic pleasure of sex and could forget the details, enjoyed knowing he brought her pleasure, feeling her shiver and jerk and hearing her strangled cries as he licked and suckled and nibbled. Noticing that the sweet sounds she made were strangled in another man's kiss were the moments when he refocused on reality.

She was tensing now and he just knew she was close, and he could see the muscles in Sheppard's thigh standing out, tight, just a few inches from his face, just as much a sign of need. Watching her jerk him made Ronon grin for some reason, briefly wondering where his prim ways had gone, but mostly allowing that the change was practical. He sucked one last time at Dr. Weir's aroused body before sitting up and pulling the other man's leg further across her body, where he'd just been laying, before letting go with a playful slap to his ass, growling "Take her, old man."

John shivered as a hand slid over his thigh, body tensed and sensitive and needing attention, any attention. A slap on the ass, on the other hand, snapped his distraction from its fascination with Elizabeth's torturing hand and he turned his head to glare at the smirking man crouching next to them while stroking himself. Nonetheless, that was a very good order. Even if he'd prefaced it with a fondling. And an accusation of age!

He got his knees on the bed and his arms around Elizabeth, pulling her up to kneel with him. As much as he wanted to lay her on her back and make long and slow love to her, having large, calloused *male* hands on him had been a good reminder that this wasn't a normal encounter.

Before he could shift onto his back with at least *some* grace, Elizabeth had taken advantage of the position and without ceremony brought her very aroused passage down on his cock, a leg wrapping around his hip, foot digging into his ass as she moaned. It was his turn to have his cry swallowed as she crashed her lips on his, kissing him possessively as he tried to keep control of himself as wet heat squeezed tight around him. He could hear incoherent moaning that had to be him and realized he wouldn't win, couldn't restrain their headlong race now. He jerked desperately, unable to control the movement, dropping backward onto the bed so that she was riding him.

She managed to stay upright, astride him with her hands on his lower ribs, flexing and sliding her open fingers through the short hairs there. Though he'd lost her kiss in the bargain, as much as he'd loved being taken and losing himself, that wasn't conducive to doing what was necessary here. This way he could clench his teeth and actually find a measure of control, grabbing her hips to slow her desperate -heavenly, God *please*! more- movements.

He watched through half-lidded eyes as she growled at him, grinning stiffly in response and shifting his grip forward to be able to spread his hands until his thumbs reached above where they were joined. He stroked jerkily as he thrust, trying to go slow but all too aware that he was close, too close, and his body wasn't really listening very well as heat rampaged through his veins and muscles.

Then Ronon was kneeling down behind her, crouching to make up for his height, pulling her into a deep over-her-shoulder kiss that John saw take her just as she had done to him. Watching dark hands cup and fondle her outthrust breasts, thumbs swiping slowly across hard nipples, made the pleasure tighten in his balls, tightened *every* muscle in his body and he gave in to the need to thrust hard and fast, 'fucking' the very sensual woman he'd fantasized about for years.

He felt pulsating tremors start around his cock, her body held in place by his jerking hands at her hips and the much calmer ones on her chest. Yes! His eyes burned in the last instances before he lost it too, watching Elizabeth as her body bowed back, barely held in check by the man behind her, her face twisted with ecstasy, inner muscles grabbing John in the most intimate way there was as he heard a howl reverberate from her throat. And *that* pushed him right over the edge, eyes rolling back as he shouted, his body convulsing as she milked him, hard, making him jerk, making his fingers jerk on her clit, making her shudder longer...

Elizabeth could hardly breathe as she shook, John's still stiffly twitching fingers keeping her too near the edge, the heated, very obviously aroused body rubbing behind her keeping her sensitive; her orgasm leaving her flooded with an utterly sexual awareness of herself and her surroundings. She opened her eyes and watched John, resting back down now, visibly shivering. She could still feel him inside her, slowly softening just as she slowly remembered how to breathe.

The sight of his body laid out before her no-longer-wild eyes kept a pulse alive deep in her belly. She'd seen his arms before, in short-sleeves, knew he was strong, and tough, but the complete lack of any material hiding the whole expanse of his skin from view now, made the curves and twists of muscle far more obvious, not just forearms and biceps, but shoulders and chest. The sheen of sweat glistening under the hair tickling his clavicles and thickening down to where she held him inside her body made her fingers itch to slide over every inch of him. Made her tongue slide over her lips; the fact that she she was leaning back on Ronon and could hardly move for being so weak were the only reasons she didn't indulge herself.

His eyes opened with a dazed look and he grinned weakly up at her; so obviously, gloriously happy with himself and his world that she again licked her lips, more consciously this time as she smiled back; knowing she looked satisfied as hell, herself. He let go of her hips with a caress as she felt him slip out of her, leaving her pleasantly sore from the unaccustomed loving, as well as feeling semen slide down her thigh, reminding her of that wishful notion of spending a day having sweaty, *dirty* sex... His hands stopped on the way past and squeezed hers, still laying on his ribs.

This private little eye-hug ended as the hands at her breasts slid down to her hips, shifting her up and back with a slight jerkiness that spoke of restless need.

Now that the moment was here, Elizabeth instinctively stiffened, even before John's eyes darkened and speared over her shoulder with momentary fury. The tableau held for a handful of heartbeats, until John suddenly blinked, breaking Elizabeth's trance. His death grip on her hands relaxed and his eyes met hers with a wince of apology before he release her fingers with a last squeeze, nodding behind her with a smile that was meant to be reassuring, "It's OK."

She didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until she found herself exhaling suddenly at the husky murmur. Her eyes closed in shame at just how close they had come to not only risking *their* lives, but those of the rest of the expedition too.

Making herself relax, Elizabeth looked over her shoulder, "I'm sorry-"

Ronon's head shake and sympathetic smile only made her wince further, but there was nothing more she could say so she simply let her head fall back on his shoulder. Allowing herself to take the time to feel her body's still present pleasure, to focus on John and bring back the daydream and the sensuality. Breathing deeply, letting her body once again come to accept that this was about *casual* pleasure. That it was alright for Ronon to be holding her, for his aroused body to rub against hers.

She finally felt calm enough and exchanged one last look with John -always her last reassurance- before closing her eyes and raising her body straight up on her knees, reflexively tightening her vagina and feeling the pull on her clit send out little waves of pleasure, helping her to relax; and between her earlier arousal and John coming inside her, she was more than lubricated enough. She reached one hand beside her to stroke Ronon's hip, just for the additional contact, reassurance for both of them, and the other down between her thighs to angle his cock up into her, gently and carefully.

He didn't move, letting her shift onto him at her own pace, and she was grateful as he slowly slid into her drenched body, bringing still throbbing nerves back to rushed life, past the last of the conflict she still strained to keep buried. He was thicker, stretching at muscles that, though softened by arousal, were still stiff with the shivers of orgasm -and tension- and were just not used to this exercising. She settled down carefully, turning her head to meet his in a hard kiss, allowing herself to get used to the unfamiliar position and feel, briefly wishing that sexuality had been able to keep its hold on her; once again forcing herself to focus purely on her senses to lose some of her thoughts in the kiss. She didn't notice when John pulled himself out from under her; under *them*. Feeling Ronon's hands shift on her hips as her body relaxed its clench around him.

He pulled back slowly, then thrust up gently and she moaned, the odd angle and stretch encouraging a very low throb of arousal to distract from the soreness. She doubted she could come again tonight, especially in this position, and instead wrapped both hands behind herself to stroke his flanks encouragingly, deliberately making the kiss evocative, copying the movement of his body. Resisting the urge to treat this as a job by focusing on the thrill of hearing him groan in pleasure, the satisfaction in knowing she could wring that from a man when she usually had to hold herself so closed off.

John wasn't sure what to do as he watched, fiercely focusing on Elizabeth's expression to keep the jealousy at bay. Luckily, once they were engaged, the ugly feeling seemed to pass, to the point that even completely sated as he was, voyeuristic pleasure peaked out again and kept him interested. After a minute, he crawled forward and laid down on his side, holding his weight on his elbow as he brought his lips down right above the action. He could interpret his teammates stubborn wish to have her come first, just as easily as see Elizabeth's unreadiness and residual tension; half *his* fault for overreacting. He wriggled his free hand between the two lovers to squeeze her ass cheek and give himself an anchor as he licked at glistening skin, remembering his earlier wish and more than satisfied with the reality.

Her clitoris was swollen and he felt every minute muscle under her skin jerk and tighten as he lapped his tongue over it, finding again that she liked a little roughness, that suckling at the mix of flavours she was coated in got more reaction than gentleness. Feeling her shudder and hearing the edge of moans still made his pulse jump, bribed him to never want to move.

He ignored the fact that their movements sometimes landed his tongue on a very differently built body part, instead, John tightened his grip on her ass, gripping the flesh firmly in his palm, fingertips just grazing the border to the next cheek, pulled her to him, or his face into her. Ignoring too, the straining abs brushing his knuckles. No, he could lay here tasting sex and feeling Elizabeth spasm with every suck, listening to her whimper as one of her hands landed in his hair now, briefly stroking but then giving up the charade and pulling him the closer. Oh yeah, right up there with kissing, even though keeping up with the speeding thrusts was going to leave him really weirdly stiff in the morning.

Elizabeth's head was thrown back, aroused and needing to come now, desperate even as her clitoris got the kind of firm treatment most men seemed hesitant to give. But there was queer tension keeping her from relaxing, all too likely her pesky thoughts refusing to be stomped; telling her that she was letting the wrong man take her, she at *least* shouldn't- "Look down," the shaky growl was a hot breath on her neck as Ronon turned his head to break the kiss, the sound shimmering through her body and making her cry out breathlessly. So very close... "*Look*." She opened her eyes feverishly at the repeated, insistent rasp, looking down as ordered, gasping for breath and shaking -so very close! Lips and soft, wet beard pressed to her ear, tongue flickering over the lobe with speech, "Look at him."

And she did; couldn't help but stare at her hands pulling John closer. His cheeks flexed as his tongue played her and he suckled, hard and sooo good and- but she knew what she was really meant to remember was the look of pleasure, of enjoying himself, enjoying *her*. "Even though you're not alone, he'll remember this *every* time he jerks off, Dr. Weir, what about *you*?"

There was no way she could speak, but the thought, the *image* of John laying in his quarters, thinking of her, of this- her grip in his hair and on Ronon's hip suddenly tightened and she cried out wordlessly, buried in touch and scent and sweat; slick, sliding, waves of furnace-heat and pleasure rising through her as every muscle tensed and started convulsing.

John held on tight, knowing he was bruising her butt and utterly unable to let go as she pulsed between his lips, wanting to make it last for her. It took him a minute to spare attention to the fact that Ronon was thrusting jerkily, grunting with need, obviously trying to find his own pleasure. Still suckling Elizabeth, more gently now, through the aftershocks, he reached between her legs with the hand that had supported him, up until now, holding himself up with his abs, and stroked his thumb firmly down the exposed section of the other man's cock, jiggling his balls the same way he'd jerk himself off. Not really thinking about what he'd done until he felt the wave pass under the pad of his finger on the upstroke and heard his friend groan and finally go still.

Elizabeth's hold on him had relaxed into a soothing caress now and he slowly, wordlessly, lifted his head to exchange a smile with her before getting up to his knees, stroking one hand up her back and the other around one of her thighs, pulling himself tight to her in a kneeling hug, forehead to forehead, Ronon's chest on his knuckles, *his* knuckles brushing John's chest where he'd gone back to palming Elizabeth's breasts.

Ronon felt the woman leaning on him sigh and lay more of her weight on him and he met Sheppard's eyes over her head. The man nodded toward the head of the bed and got up as Ronon laid down, carefully bringing Dr. Weir down to lay on her side in front of him. Sex always left him feeling more tactile than usual and he hoped she didn't mind that he continued to hold and stroke her. The danger of the moment when they'd all come face to face with the reality of the situation still beat through him, but he trusted these two people to stand by their word. They had said this was okay and they had both caught themselves quickly when reaction *had* hit. He didn't know what he would have done in Sheppard's shoes, but he had to trust that the moment had been an aberration. If it wasn't.. well, they would let him know, one way or another, but honour called to assume they would stand by their words.

So he didn't stop himself from touching, and now that the haze of the act was lifting, he was going over the evening with a peculiarly disconcerted feeling. He'd had enough exposure to porn since meeting the Atlanteans to have come to accept that it was arousing to watch two people have sex, even though he *knew* he didn't belong there, but the notion that it was a man's fingers that had provided the last strokes to get him off.. was unnerving. Or it should be. Right?

Oh well. He kissed Dr.Weir's shoulder one last time, content that he still preferred the feel of soft breasts in his palms than anything else, and turned to lay on his back, one hand behind his head as he stretched out, firmly putting aside the self-analyzing thoughts for another day and just enjoying the afterglow of a happy body.

John walked into the bathroom, rotating his shoulder and rolling his eyes at his mental whining. He'd *known* that was going to hurt; not that he regretted it, not even a bit. But he didn't like the thought that he was getting too old for sex gymnastics. He stared in the mirror at his face as he grabbed a small cloth, wet it and cleaned himself up. He still wasn't sure if the hint of grey in his hair was his imagination or the glaring honesty of full light. Looking down at the rest of his body, he stopped the introspection; hell, after that performance, who the hell cared? He still had it, and if he could talk Elizabeth into finding a way to do this again, at least the part with the two of them... Hey, as long as *she* liked it, he didn't give a damn what colour the hair was, or how many lines snuck onto his face. He grinned as he washed the cloth and grabbed another, leaving them both a little soggy, and she *had* been enjoying looking at him, *that* hadn't been his imagination!

Walking into the bedroom, he quirked a brow at his teammate's cocky position. Glad that the urge to kill him seemed to have fully vanished, he threw one of the cloths at his head, not surprised when the seemingly sleeping warrior caught it in midair. "Show off." The all-too-tall, too young and too strong tease just grinned at him as he used the cloth to start his own cleanup as John kneeled on the bed next to a half-asleep Elizabeth and gently rolled her to her back, watching her eyes open groggily. She looked like a fallen angel, adorably flushed, mussed, boneless, tired.. and pleased. Or was that pleasured? Why didn't he carry a camera in the field, again?

Giving up the wasted wishing and concentrating on collecting memories, he carefully pressed the warmly wet cloth between her legs and winked when she sighed contentedly and opened her legs to give him complete access. She smiled and closed her eyes again as he took his time gently wiping her clean before dropping a kiss on her belly and throwing the cloth on a nigh table. The lights went off and he looked up to see Ronon walking back from the switch as he lay down besides her, pulling her back onto her side to hug her close, burying his nose between her shoulder and neck and half aware that the other man had fitted himself to her back. John was almost getting used to a hairy chest on his knuckles; and large knuckles on *his* chest.

Elizabeth nuzzling her nose into his neck with a sigh made up for a great deal of damned unpleasant realities. The shiver she managed to send through his sated body; even more so. With a content sigh of his own, he reached down lazily and tugged her thigh over his hip, pulling their bodies as close as they could be.

Elizabeth drifted, pleasantly warm and feeling pampered; willing to forget everything until tomorrow. When she felt Ronon pull her other leg backward to lay between *his* though, she could almost hear them start to glare at each other over her and she grinned, opening her eyes and pulling her head back to glare at John. She shifted his jaw over so she could kiss him, long and lazy and pleasurably, feeling Ronon nuzzling her nape. Before she could fall in the daze herself, she released him, satisfied that he was out of trouble-causing commission for a while, "Enough, colonel, I am *not* a dessert to fight over. Ever." As much as she'd started that kiss as a joke, it occurred to her that maybe making a point *now* would save her more serious arguments later. Her freezing mid act aside, she couldn't afford either of these men being immature about this.

He pouted, but then nodded reluctant agreement and relaxed the edge of possessiveness that had snuck into his grip, eyes apologizing silently. With a reassuring smile for him, she then reached behind her and gripped a fistful of long hair, ignoring the grunt of complaint as she turned her head to give Ronon a hard kiss, wiping the smirk he'd been wearing right off his face, "That goes for you too, Ronon."

*He* only grinned back unrepentantly, unfazed, "Yes Ma'am."

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head before laying back to face a John smirking at the blatant disobedience to her edict. Oh well, as long as they were back on the same side; and didn't think Ronon would be a problem, anyway. Elizabeth cuddled back up to John, keeping one arm behind her on Ronon's hip for fairness -and any damned still watching cameras!-, but otherwise concentrating on her second-in-command's breath in her ear, his skin in reach of lazy kisses, his heartbeat steady under her palm. It was very nice to be so warm all over, and she was actually used to Ronon's touch now, especially now that it was and would remain only 'touch'. Drowsily enjoying being petted and kissed by both of them, Elizabeth decided this had been a far better day than anticipated. Momentary hiccough included.


	3. Chapter 3

Elizabeth woke when Ronon got up, feeling the sudden chill; the blanket he covered her with was no match for the furnace of his body. Her eyes opened in confusion at the change and met John's, mere inches away. She gasped in surprise before her brain kicked in and reminded her of where she was, and then she chuckled at her reaction, glad to see him grin softly in return.

"Sorry he woke you, bad soldier's habits to be up so early."

His voice was still raspy with sleep and Elizabeth, assimilating her memories and the sensations of his body tight against hers wondered how hard waking up alone was going to be tomorrow. Her leg was over his hip, her hand buried in the hair at the back of his head; his hand absently kneading her ass and his half-aroused penis lodged between her thighs. Yes, tomorrow was going to be very lonely and cold, she thought sadly.

"Elizabeth?" She'd been focused on her senses too long and realized he was starting to worry at her silence, "We okay?"

Focusing on the closeness they'd fallen into last night and still too sleepy to start back to their status quo yet, she smiled and closed the distance between them, intending just a quick kiss of reassurance. But she'd forgotten how good it felt, and once he ran is tongue over her lip, she forgot about 'quick' and instead lost track of time as they lay there in the predawn light and French kissed lazily.

####

Ronon stopped in the bathroom door, rolling his eyes with affectionate exasperation. *How* had they managed to keep their hands off each other for so long? Hey, maybe he could use the fact that this finally got them together to get the water he was in with Teyla a little less hot. He'd realized a long time ago that her tough exterior hid the heart of a matchmaker and a romantic; she would love for the leaders of Atlantis to finally get some ease with each other...

Shaking his head at the fact that they hadn't so much as twitched from their deep kiss, Ronon fought off the automatic instinct to leave them alone and instead walked up to the bed and slapped his military commander on his exposed ass, "Quit being greedy, old man; let the lady have a break," he looked at Dr. Weir, "Bath ready, Doc."

Elizabeth laughed at the growl John made as he glared over his shoulder. When he turned back to pout at her like a wounded two-year-old, she kissed his forehead before getting out of his not-*quite*-resisting arms, ignoring her own wish to hide under the covers and go back to kissing and cuddling.

Crawling out of bed was a little slow as she moved gingerly, definitely feeling the sorer for last night's activities, though she tried to keep the two men from noticing. Whether they reacted with guilt or machismo, she didn't need to deal with it today. She wanted to get the last of the negotiations done *before* nightfall and *without* incident.

As she passed him, she got on tiptoe to kiss Ronon's cheek, her hand on his chest for balance, not even noticing his bare skin under her palm. "Thank you, Ronon."

He watched her walk to the bathroom, trying to avoid staring at her ass even as he was glad to see her smiling. The woman worked far too hard with not nearly enough reward. He turned back to the bed, hoping that that might change after today, he was pretty tired himself of watching their jerky 'courtship'. These 'Earthlings' were crazy.

John also watched Elizabeth walk away from him, trying to stomp down the urge to punch the man who'd not only interrupted them but had deserved himself a kiss. He rolled his eyes at himself as she closed the door; yeah, so much for keeping this fun and casual. Laying on his back, he put his hands under his head; there was nothing to do but daydream until she was done and he could have his turn at the water. He was just starting to lose himself in the memory of that kiss when he was reminded of the other person in the room by Ronon's grunt, "Show off."

He opened his eyes and turned to the man in surprise. It took following his gaze to John's position on the bed -flat on his back.. and still aroused- to realize what the words meant and start to laugh. Hey, they'd saved Atlantis and he'd gotten to kiss the woman he loved... the small incidental details didn't matter; he was feeling *good*. And if he somehow showed up his all too impressive teammate for once, well, yay!

####

Elizabeth was beyond glad to watch the papers with their new treaty being copied. Though it had only taken four hours, she was sore enough that sitting still and keeping a stoic face was getting to be a strain. That wonderful hot bath this morning was too long ago; she could only pray that the power modules she'd just acquired would be enough to get water flowing freely in her own bathroom soon. Tonight seemed too much to ask for but- She refocused quickly as her new ally spoke in the intergalactic idle tone of smalltalk.

"I was surprised to observe which of your guards is the alpha, Dr. Weir of Atlantis."

Elizabeth blinked, feeling as though her face had caught on fire but knowing it wasn't really and making sure to choke any *further* reaction under a practised cloak. If her voice was a little acerb, well, the idea that this person had stared at her image as she made lo- *had sex*, and *analyzed* her, *their*, behaviour.. was just a *little* hard to take in stride, "Were you? He's earned the position many times over and I've never regretted my choice, Lady of Roklyx."

"Indeed. We may have to consider this notion that brains can be worth more than brawn."

"Indeed." And if John ever heard of this conversation... Her reach for the pen to sign the paper being handed to her *was* calm.. but it was a near thing.

####

The palace had come to seem safe, in and of itself, so they let Ronon accompany the clerk to get their modules out of storage. The anticlimax of simply showing up at a military supply counter and requisitioning their saving grace as though it was a pair of replacement underwear left Elizabeth lost in thought as she stared absently at Ronon walking away from her and John.

"I owe Teyla an apology," As John watched, a discomfited look crossed her face, "Though I'm damned if I know how..."

He wondered how Teyla would react to knowing she'd been so obvious in her feelings, and he understood Elizabeth's worry. Not having any particular idea of his own, he tried to reorient her thoughts, "What if it was the other way around?" The way Elizabeth's eyes suddenly snapped to him made his heart lift, knowing that the way he felt wasn't one-sided. He grinned gently, ignoring the little dance he was doing in the privacy of his own mind at this repayment of the painful jealousy he'd felt last night, "Would you want her to apologize?"

Elizabeth took a breath, trying to breathe out the moment of possessive fury and put it to the use he'd correctly foreseen, "No. *She*'s not the one who would have to make it up to me."

The firm look she was giving him made John's brows jerk up and his head tilt with slow understanding. Uh; good to know. Not that he ever intended to *need* to know *that*.. but still, if they were going to have a relationship, he'd need every scrap of information about Elizabeth-the-woman that he could get.

####

"Hey Ronon!"

The Runner turned at the call from his leader, hurrying down the -finally brightly-lit- hall of Atlantis toward him, "Yeah?"

He watched the older man fumble for words for a second, ending with a frustrated look and his hand behind his head, mumbling as he kept watch to make sure no one approached them, "..In the course of conversation.. Elizabeth let drop that *we*'re the ones who have to do the apologizing here.. just thought you might want to know."

He gave the man a measuring look before nodding thoughtfully, "Yeah. Kinda figured." *That* much seemed a universal female trait; men are always at fault.

####

It took a full day for Rodney to get the new power interfaced to Atlantis and the systems all adjusted to work peacefully in their new energy matrix. Finally crawling into a steaming bath, Elizabeth was willing to forgive him for every rant and whine, simply for the pleasure of finally warming her sore body. She was beginning to think she'd really gone too long without sex; it was ridiculous to take so long to recover! They hadn't even done anything *that* strenuous.

Between getting up to speed on what had happened in the city while they'd been away and then following up on the slow installation of power, Elizabeth had avoided the more private conversation she needed to have with Teyla, right up until this evening. After Rodney had reported to everyone that Atlantis was back up and running; shield, fresh water and all, everyone had hurried out, no doubt for showers of their own. She'd caught Teyla's eye and the Athosian had wordlessly stayed behind until they were alone.

Mindful of her own conclusion while talking to John, she hadn't tried to explain or excuse. "I'm sorry, Teyla. I *really* wish it could have all gone down differently-" She'd cut off at the other woman's raised hand, reassured at the smile, however forced, that she was giving her.

"I understand, Elizabeth. I completely agree that it was the only logical choice. You do not owe me an explanation." Though she didn't deny the reason for the apology. "It could not have been easy for you, either."

Thrown back to that moment when she'd frozen and John had almost attacked, Elizabeth had grinned wryly, *able* to smile about it now that they were safely home, "No, not easy."

They'd looked at each other with sardonic understanding of both their messed up personal lives before parting ways.

Now, as the lavender-scented water soaked into her tense body, Elizabeth found herself thinking of a different moment. Sated and staring at her lover; and daydreaming. Captain Neil and her team seemed to have taken the order to be silent about their mission to heart, or at least Elizabeth hadn't caught any smirks or sidelong looks indicating that people knew what they'd been required to get up to on that planet. Which left her with the choice of what to include in her report. She couldn't very well lie; if anyone else ever needed to deal with Roklyx, they needed to be aware. She sighed, again circling back to John. If she was going to have to report that she'd slept with him -to save Atlantis!-.. could the damned IOA really make a fuss about her having a relationship with him?

It was a rhetorical question, knowing very well that, yes, of course they could. The real question was whether they'd leave her in charge of Atlantis, leave him as her military commander, when they found out about even just the mission. Considering some of the innuendo she'd already had to fend off, she suspected they would simply take this as proof they'd already been together and grab the excuse to make as much trouble as they could.

So the question was, did she want to stand and fight over having done her duty and then gone back to her lonely life.. or did she want to claim the chance at something more. She rather thought that the considering looks John had been shooting her since they'd returned was an indication of plans being made; of wishes he wasn't willing to ignore anymore.

If he was willing to take the risk, she was at the point that she'd had enough. Too many hints and rumours that the forces-that-be were ready to take her down at any time; and she didn't particularly think that whatever was happening on Earth would change any of that. The memory of the contentment on John's face as they'd caught their breath was the final straw: Elizabeth stood in the slowly cooling water, decision made, her stubborn will reoriented to a new life path.

####

Ronon knelt on one knee, thinking of the strange paths life took to lead you to the future. One arm extended straight out before his bowed head, holding his phaser perfectly still by the barrel, parallel to the ground, he spoke solemnly, from his soul, "My arms and weapons, yours to command. My heart and loyalty, bound to you."

The words were not of *his* past.

They were from the ways of the people of the woman who had finally invited him to *evening* tea and now stood before him, deciding which path he would be travelling from here.


End file.
